


Only Fools Rush In

by FandomAmbassador



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Reunions, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, oskar's philosophical ramblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomAmbassador/pseuds/FandomAmbassador
Summary: Nemesis might be leaving Fnatic, but Oskar can't let his soulmate disappear without one last goodbye. It's Oskar racing the clock to confess his love to Tim before it's too late...lucky for him, he has destiny on his side.
Relationships: Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek
Kudos: 31





	Only Fools Rush In

**Author's Note:**

> writing playlist: wake up by eden (neme's song <3)
> 
> please pretend I know how airports work and that covid doesn't rlly exist in this au

“Don’t you dare hop on that goddamn plane,” Oskar growled into the phone. “I will be there in ten minutes.”

He threw a jacket over his shoulder, not even bothering to put it on properly, and slammed the door to the Fnatic facility behind him, waving a hand to call a cab even as he barely stepped onto the sidewalk. 

“What are you talking about Oskar?” Tim’s voice was muffled and confused. “I said I will see you when I come back to Europe.”

Oskar’s eyes pricked with tears and he gritted his teeth to try and hold back the frustration. “No, Tim, you don’t  _ get it _ . I didn’t get to say goodbye yet.” 

He cursed under his breath in Polish, halfway stepping into the street until a cab finally noticed him. Sliding into the backseat, he gave the driver the address to the airport. 

“What do you mean, ‘say goodbye’?” Tim’s voice echoed in the backseat of the cab, tinny from the loudspeaker of the cell phone. “You can tell me goodbye right here. Look, I’m going to be late.”

Leaning forward, Oskar slapped a couple more euros into the cabbie’s console. “Drive faster. Please.” 

The cabbie just glanced down at the money and shrugged, accelerating the vehicle. 

“Hey, Oskar, are you listening to me? You better not be driving here. Go home.” 

“Fuck you, Tim.” Oskar muttered to himself, dropping the phone on the seat in order to put his jacket on and actually tie his shoes, which he had forgone in his hasty exit from the gaming house.

He was sure he looked like a madman to the cabbie. Or perhaps an escaped convict, with his severe buzzcut and wide eyes, Tim’s voice rambling from the cell phone.

“You better not be ignoring me Oskar, dammit!”

The jungler snatched the phone back up, putting it to his ear. “I’m sorry, Tim. I’m sorry for everything. I need to see you one last time before you go. Promise me, okay?”

The line was silent for a moment, save for the faint sound of the hustle and bustle of the airport in the background, coming through like radio static. 

Then, Nemesis spoke. “Fine. But hurry up, yes? I’m not missing my plane because of you.”

Oskar slumped forward in relief, breathing out a sharp exhalation and squeezing his eyes shut, begging himself to keep it together and not cry over the phone. 

“Thank you. Yes. I will be quick. Don’t you dare move, Tim Liposvek.” 

He could almost hear Tim rolling his eyes on the other end and there was only a snort before the midlaner ended the call. 

Oskar just sat there, staring at the phone in his hands, the time stamps for the call blinking across the screen. Half of him knew that Tim would just board the plane, not bothering to put up with Oskar’s half-crazed nonsense, but the other half held hope in bated breath that Tim would be waiting there for him, sleepy eyes betraying his exasperated fondness. 

Oskar didn’t know if he was stupid or just hopeless.

“Sounds like an urgent mission you got there, boy.” The cabbie said from the front seat, humorous intentions and a German accent lilting his words. 

“Mission? I don’t know. Maybe. Mostly me just trying to fix my fuck ups.” 

“Well, a repair mission then.” There was a belated chuckle, as if the cabbie just realized his own joke.

“Yeah, sure. Repair mission.” Vaguely, Oskar imagined Nemesis as the emotionless robot he was always played out to be, suffering from a minor malfunction. It was up to Oskar to bring him the necessary parts, fiddle around in his head to try and understand what went wrong. 

Then again, Oskar thought that he was probably the broken one and not Nemesis. Tim, despite all the hardships and disappointments, was still steadfastly refusing to falter. 

For the millionth time, Oskar doubted himself. He doubted if this was really the right choice. If Nemesis was the prodigy, the young king who was overthrown, then Selfmade would surely be the Fool who loyally followed him into storm and war. Even though he knew that Nemesis would have to move on, and that greater opportunities lay in Korean with LS and Crownshot, he foolishly wanted to beg Nemesis to stay.

A vague, nostalgic memory whispered in Oskar’s mind, and a set of lyrics popped into his head that he couldn’t quite put his fingers on.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in…” Oskar hummed to himself. 

“Ah, do you like The King?” the cabbie piped up again, glancing back at Oskar curiously.

“Who?”

“The King of Rock and Roll! Elvis Presley, the greatest American singer of all time.” The cabbie said, as if it should have been glaringly obvious. 

“My mom used to play his tracks, I think. I remember some of them.” Oskar said, tapping out the rest of the beat with his fingers as the memory came to him. 

“Good taste. Very romantic song.” The cabbie began humming it himself, filing the vehicle with a gravelly melody. 

Oskar found himself closing his eyes and trying to follow the tune, choppy segments of the lyrics popping up in his head. The song was romantic indeed, but there was also something painfully nostalgic about it. It felt like it spoke of fate and soulmates, the incredible feeling of ending up at each other’s sides against all odds. 

It felt a lot like home. 

Somehow, some way, Oskar felt this gut-deep instinct that was making him do this. He was rushing in like a fool to find Tim because it felt like something was tugging at him, urging him to follow this path and leaving him helpless but to pray that it took him to the right place. That instinct was telling him that at the end of that path, Oskar would find that home again. 

_ Nemesis _ felt like home. 

He was sleepy mornings with no places to rush to, he was bedheads and oversized hoodies. He was dripping with saccharine sarcasm and silver-tongued retorts. He was exhilarating victory and the thrill of the hunt, two fingers placed over Oskar’s pulse points and reading him like an open book. 

He was a crimson ribbon tied on Oskar’s pinky finger, pulling him every which way. 

Oskar felt like he was going to combust. 

“You still with me, boy? We have arrived,” the cabbie had pulled up to the drop-off roundabout of the airport. “Good luck on your mission.”

Oskar nodded rapidly, pulling himself together and patting his pockets to make sure he had his phone and wallet. “ _ Danke. Danke. _ ” He left an extra tip for the cabbie, inspired by the music or perhaps the mission pep talk. 

Oskar didn’t waste any more time though. He rushed up the stairs into the open space of the lobby. 

For once, he was grateful for the strict organization of the airport and the limited capacity. Instead of the hordes of people crowding the lobby, choking out the air and blocking the view to the ticketing and information desks, it was blessedly empty. 

If he was lucky, he could spot out Tim here instead of wading his way through massive crowds and simply hoping to run into him. 

Oskar had never been particularly superstitious or religious, but he crossed his fingers and prayed to God that Tim would still be here. 

The airport was massive, feeling almost as large as Berlin itself. The vaulted ceilings and wide expanses of sterile white felt like an endless stretch of desert to Oskar, and he was left without a map.  _ A map _ . Shit. Oskar needed to find the customer service desk. They could direct him to where Nemesis’ flight was. He broke out into a jog, steering away from the half-dazed groups of people, who shuffled around helplessly like they had been trapped in this timeless airport for centuries with no place to go. Everyone around him seemed to be moving in slow motion while he was sped up, needing to go fast, fast, fast before he lost sight of his goal.

His goal. What exactly was his goal? When he found Nemesis, what was he going to do? Tim had his own goal, he had a schedule he needed to keep before he got swallowed by this endless vacuum of time and space. But Oskar just needed to see him one last time, just to make sure he was real and not one of these mindless, stumbling shells of humans. Even though Tim jokingly called himself a robot, Oskar felt like Tim was the only other person on this planet. Tim, with his endlessly grey-blue eyes that looked like the looming summer storm over Oskar’s home back in Poland. Those eyes somehow  _ knew _ things that Oskar didn’t even know about himself. That was what people would never understand about Tim; they would never understand that his quiet expressions were more real than any other human that Oskar knew. They thought that he was emotionless, but didn’t know that his glittering eyes and gentle touches held more emotion than Oskar could handle. 

The mere idea that he might never get to experience the enigma that was Nemesis again felt like it was tearing Oskar in half. He felt that tugging on his hand again, maybe his soulmate string if he could be persuaded to believe that bullshit. 

Standing in front of the customer service desk felt like a crossroads.

“Can I help you sir?” The woman said at the front desk.

Oskar nodded numbly. “Yes. Yes, where is the flight to South Korea that’s leaving shortly?”

“There’s one that will be taking off in twenty minutes, sir. You’ll need to hurry, follow the corridor on the left of the lobby, it’s at Gate 36.”

Twenty minutes. Oskar felt the looming clock above his head, ticking, ticking, ticking. 

“ _ Danke _ .” Oskar managed before pushing himself away from the desk, half running and half stumbling to the corridor. Twenty minutes somehow felt both infinite and fleeting. How could he possibly say everything he needed to say in less than twenty minutes? For all he knew, Nemesis was already boarding the flight. 

His whole universe had narrowed down to twenty minutes, while Nemesis still had infinite time in front of him. Boarding the plane would not change a thing for him. For Oskar, it felt like the timer was a Damascus sword above his head. 

_ 31. _

_ 32. _

_ 33. _

_ 34. _

_ 35. _

_ 36\.  _ Oskar skidded to a stop in front of the gate labeled 36, frantically skimming through the crowd to catch a glimpse of something familiar. A shock of ashy gold hair, the orange and black color of a now-meaningless Fnatic hoodie,  _ anything _ . All he found was glazed-over eyes and cold, plastic expressions on these empty people around him. There was a sinking feeling in his chest as he realized that he was too late. People were already gathering on board. Tim was nowhere to be seen.

Oskar was too late. The back of his throat tasted like bitter disappointment. 

_ Tim. _ His mouth formed the syllable but no sound came out. Was twenty minutes all that had stood between him and Tim? Another failed countdown, a shattered stopwatch in his hands. Oskar’s eyes burned.

“Hey! Asshole, what are you just standing there for?”

The sarcasm-laced Slovenian accent sent a jolt straight down Oskar’s spine and he felt like invisible hands had grabbed him around the waist and spun him around to come face to face with exasperated eyes glittering with unreadable emotions. 

“Tim. Tim.” Oskar forced his throat to work around the letters, rasping out his name as if it was the only vocabulary he had left, the only word he would ever need.

“Yeah. That’s me.” A sad smile just barely flitted across Nemesis’ face. 

Oskar couldn’t do anything more than simply let that red string, that insistent instinct, that gut-deep reaction push him forward, tugging Tim into his arms. One hand slid into the feather-light hair at the nape of Tim’s neck, pulling him impossibly close. Oskar let his forehead drop to Tim’s shoulder, breathing in at the conjunction of his neck and collarbone. He still smelled like the soap from the gaming house showers.

“Idiot. You’re acting like I’m leaving for war.” Nemesis grumbled, but he was holding on just as tightly. 

“You left the team. Isn’t that war? We’re on opposite sides now. Opposite countries, even.” 

“No. Never, Oskar,” His voice was quiet and precise. “I left the team, yes, but I’ll never leave you. No matter what country I’m in, I’m still by your side. We’re destined to always be connected, yes? Even when I left Mad Lions, you found your way back to me. You always do.”

Oskar’s hand fisted in Nemesis’ soft hoodie, forcing himself to breathe in and out. “What if I can’t find my way back to you?”

Tim pulled back, his thumbs at Oskar’s temples, holding his face to look straight at him. “Then, I promise that I will find  _ you _ .” 

Gently, the pad of his thumb swept underneath Oskar’s right eye, brushing away the dampness there. As always, his eyes were infinite and open. 

Unable to stop himself, Oskar surged forward and suddenly he was kissing Tim. That telltale timer finally stopped ticking in the back of his mind as everything slowed to a halt around the two of them. The center of the universe became pinpointed on this one moment, at every point of contact between them. Everything about Tim was painfully gentle and soft, from the way he held Oskar’s face in his hands to the way he returned the kiss. Oskar knew it was a goodbye kiss, but he tried to hold on for as long as he could.

Their bubble was shattered by the announcement over the loudspeaker that urged all passengers to board flight 36. The robotic voice almost felt like a confirmation to Oskar that the two of them were the only real things left in this cold universe.

He felt Tim’s smile against his as they pulled back, filled with nothing but open honesty and tenderness. The careful, thorough way that Nemesis loved him felt almost painful. 

“Goodbye, Tim.” Oskar whispered, letting his fingers slip from that wispy hair like clouds around Nemesis’ face. 

Tim’s eyes were bright, like the shimmery ozone after a fleeting summer storm above Oskar’s house in Poland. 

“I’ll see you soon, Oskar.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I just hope we can see them playing together again :( pls cheer for neme as a gen g content creator and oskar as our fav fnatic jungler as always!! <33 I love u guys, ty for reading


End file.
